Champion's Allure
by LatimerBaka
Summary: They've been the best of friends for a couple of years now, but between Brendan's duty as a champion and his ever increasing popularity, May isn't entirely sure where she stands. All she knows is that certain feelings are coming to a head, and she's going to need a lot of help in order to make peace with them.
1. Chapter 1

**Champion's Allure**

**A/N: **_Well, I certainly haven't written any fanfiction in years, but I completed Omega Ruby recently and became Hoennshipping trash. I mean, if you've played the games, can you blame me? They laid the shiptease on thick. Originally I felt like writing a cute little one-shot, but for some reason as soon as I settled down to write it other ideas came to mind and it's turned into a short story. Not sure why, but I can't say it doesn't happen a lot. _

_Anyways, the story is based upon my Omega Ruby game, where I played as the male, chose a Mudkip etc., so any references will be in line with that gameverse, except the main male is referred to as Brendan and not Hideki for obvious reasons. Because I dissociate NPC! May/Brendan and Player! May/Brendan, the Brendan here isn't really a tsundere or anything, though he certainly likes teasing May. The player characters are cardboard, essentially, so I'm just working with a made up personality for Brendan. May, however, is based on her NPC character, though that certainly doesn't mean I'll get her right and know how to write her, especially in a romantic context. The story is set a couple of years after the game/Delta Episode, so I suppose I should warn that there will probably be light spoilers/references to the events._

"No, no, I can't say _that. _I mean, I don't have any right to, and it would sound weird and –and –"

Her monologue was paused as she pressed harder into her pokeball cushion, a muffled groan issuing from what would surely become her new face if she kept at it. Stretched out on the carpet beside her bed, Sceptile's attention was temporarily piqued by the noise, but when he had affirmed his human trainer was up to her increasingly common theatrics he plopped his head back down on the carpet, wholly disinterested.

She caught the motion in her periphery and allowed the cushion to drop to her lap with a soft _plunk, _giving her long-time companion a look somewhere between a scowl and a pout. "Look, I know you can't exactly talk me through things as I lie on a long couch with the back of my hand against my forehead, but you could at least look sympathetic." Her admonishment was replied to by a rickety, drawn out snore. "Or you could just sleep," she conceded, wondering – not for the first time – how her Sceptile could sleep so easily, especially as lately she was up later and later with her…_musings._

"May, honey, could you come downstairs? Your father wants your help out in the field again. He's just popped back to the lab to get some things ready," her mother's voice drifted up.

Again, huh? Her dad had been particularly insistent that she accompany and attend a lot of his field work lately, and his intentions were not subtle; he was grooming and priming her to take his position, after all. It wasn't like she minded said intentions, and she did like having something to centre her thoughts for a while.

"Alright mum, I'm coming~!" she called back, springing from her bed and nearly tripping over the large mass sprawled by it in the process. As she was adjusting her hair in the mirror, reflections revealed said mass was fixing her a bleary stare, awoken by the shouting and stumbling. "I've gotta go out now, big guy, so you have a choice; you can either come with me and stay in the pokeball, as I'm sure the inhabitants of route 101 would prefer, or you can stay there sleeping and leave me to the defence of my other partners."

Sceptile closed his eyes.

While she had avoided making a show of herself by actually tripping over Sceptile, the same could not be said for her descent down the stairs. As soon as she spotted the white hat, she knew the inevitable result of her heart and foot skipping at the same time.

"May! Good morning, you're looking – May?!" Brendan jerked forward and caught May by the shoulders as she dipped forward, steadying her as her mother pottered nervously in the background. She stared at him blankly, as if she didn't register his presence, before reality settled in and she straightened her spine, backing away from his body slightly, a light red dusting her cheeks.

"Oh, h-hello Brendan," she said, looking at everyone and everything except the aforementioned. "Sorry…seems as the years go by, my clumsiness gets worse instead of better. Thanks for the save, though~." His hands were very warm against her shoulders, and it felt nice. Brendan in general was very warm, which had nothing to do with a certain ground and fire legendary he had tamed that had nearly dried up the world, currently resting in the Ultra Ball attached to his belt. She knew he had a concerned look on his face even if she wasn't directly looking at it; she could feel the intensity emanating from his gaze.

When was he going to step away from her and her shoulders? Why were they just standing there, being silly? Maybe the heat he emitted was getting to her.

"Yeah, still as clumsy as ever," he remarked uncertainly, finally removing his hands but still encroaching upon her personal space.

This was ridiculous. This was Brendan, for crying out loud! Who could she relax around and talk to if not Brendan?

"Ah, well, as I say, if there were ever a clumsiness competition added, I'd just have to somehow perform in it myself~ But it sure is a surprise to see you here! I mean, I thought you wouldn't be back for a couple more days." She made herself look at him and immediately regretted it when their eyes locked; she wanted to shrink into obscurity.

"Well, yeah, that was the expectation…but father fell ill and it's not like the double battle tour could continue. I'm…sorry I dropped by unannounced…I shouldn't have startled you like that."

"No, no, no! It's not that," May suddenly yelled, arms flailing in denial as she shoved her face close to his. "It's not a bad thing! I wanted to see you! I'm glad to see you! I'm just – I'm just a klutz! I'd have probably fallen over if my own mum had popped her head around the corner from the living room and –"

Her mother promptly made a face.

"Well, it's certainly not your father's good looks you have," she commented before disappearing into another room, leaving the two teenagers to themselves. Both looked after her and then back at each other; May knew her face was bright red, from her embarrassment and frantic exertions, and considered that she must look quite comical. Brendan didn't seem particularly amused as he looked down at her, though; his grey tinged eyes looked a bit reflective, despite the small smile that had crept up on his face.

"Well, that's good to know. It's also good to know you're still as energetic as ever." Wait, looking down at her? What? "Professor Birch will be here in a second, right? And you're going to go to route 101 with him?" Unbelievable…when had that happened? They'd always been about the same height until she had grown a bit taller than him, and taller than him she had remained, until…

"You're taller than me," she blurted out, eyes widened in her disbelief. Brendan arched an eyebrow at her, implicitly asking why she had brought such a thing up out of the blue. She shook her head, as if she couldn't formulate a reply to the unheard query, before a weird sense of giddiness tugged her lips upward and made her poke his forehead. "I can't believe I have to raise my arm up a bit to do this." With that, she dissolved into giggles.

Bristling and flustered, Brendan ducked away, and May could just about make out the red colouring that had sprung to his cheeks.

"Is that meant to be surprising? I am in the middle of puberty, you know." He said almost proudly, though the way his voice cracked and tended to a higher pitch at the end made her smile even more.

"I know, I know, it's not surprising. It's just…I didn't see it happen gradually. You just…popped up. That's funny." She grinned roguishly at him, causing him to redden further.

"I'm not a plant," he muttered as the rather stout and short figure of Professor Birch came bustling into the house.

"Ah, Brendan, you're back! It's nice to see you – your mother tells me Norman is sick? I'll have to go and check on him sometime soon, soothe his wounds about his immune system progressing the same way as his shade of hair." He also grinned roguishly at Brendan, before turning his attention fully to his daughter. "Sorry I took so long, dear, but I had to get my notes in order. This is pretty interesting stuff, you know. Are you ready to head off?"

"Sure daddy, I'm all set." Her eyes settled on Brendan who stood there awkwardly, staring holes into the floor. A small, vindictive part of her felt that it was appropriate he was now the one feeling a bit out of sorts. "Brendan, what are you going to do? Do you want to come along? It might be fun, you know – daddy's all excited about it, and has been for days. I was waiting for this call."

"Might be fun, you say? You're going to have a blast with this!" Professor Birch explained, before striding over to Brendan and clapping him on the back. "You should also come too, even if your forte is more in battling than research. Interesting things are interesting things, regardless of your profession." He proceeded to glance at his daughter and then back at Brendan. "Besides, you haven't seen May properly in a couple of months – you're obligated to spend some time with her! She's been so lonely and put out, you know, so I really think you should –"

"Not be pressured into coming if you don't want to," May interjected, biting her lower lip. Her dad really was oblivious; of course he would notice her odd behaviour and moods and then not make the connection that he should perhaps not flag it up to Brendan.

The topic of her confused emotions looked rather entertained by her dad's rambling for his part, and she knew well enough the high arch of his eyebrows indicated some sense of smugness; her embarrassment flared at this and, in defiance, she crossed her arms and stared meaningfully at her dad. Her dad did not pick up on the helpful cues.

"Well, of course he doesn't have to come if he doesn't want to, but I should think he would like to, right? You've missed May too, haven't you? It would be a sad state of affairs if you didn't miss her as much as she missed you," he said darkly, a hint of threat in his tone.

"Of course I've missed May!" he declared, cajoling the older man on as he slipped over to her and slung an arm around her shoulders. "The thing on my mind the most was her, after all, among other important thoughts like 'Wow, that was a really good battle' and 'Oh no, my father's going to infect me and I'm going to die, but I need to be strong enough to make it back to May!'"

She knew she shouldn't have, but she couldn't seem to help it nowadays; despite full knowledge he was egging her dad on for amusement, she blushed and felt her stomach churn. Gods, Brendan could be such a moron sometimes.

"To infect me too, right?" she added under her breath so her father wouldn't hear, and he confirmed her assumption by positively _beaming _at her.

Professor Birch himself appeared a little perturbed by Brendan's impassioned speech, shaking his head over and over again as he stared at the two, unsure of what to say.

"Right, well, that's…grand. It's good that you thought of her so much. I do think you should...dial back the enthusiasm somewhat, though, otherwise you might freak my daughter out a bit."

"Oh, yes, sorry! That's a very valid point…I should restrain myself a bit. I know I can be a bit…intense," Brendan replied, nodding his head vigorously. May pinched his cheek in retaliation and stepped forth, hands on hips.

"C'mon, we're wasting time here! Let's go and investigate this thing that's got you in such a state, daddy!"

"Ah, yes, we should get going. Coming, Brendan?"

"Well, of course! You do need my Poochyena for this, right? I've got it here." He patted one of the pokeballs on his belt and winked conspiratorially at Professor Birch. "I've had to try hard to make sure he didn't evolve."

May stared to and fro the males, her confusion slowly transforming into agitation. She certainly didn't understand the entire context of this exchange, but she had a bad feeling about where things were going.


	2. Chapter 2

**Champion's Allure**

May squinted up at the sky, noting that the sun was reaching its peak height for the day. It was certainly very bright, but no warmth had enveloped Littleroot town; the cold prompted all three into a brisk walk towards route 101. Well, a brisk walk had seemingly been an intention shared by everyone, but hers was cut short when Brendan suddenly came to a halt in front of her, causing her front to smack into his back.

She raised an eyebrow at him as he turned to face her, lips pursed in thought. Professor Birch had paused a little ways ahead, at the border of town and route, glancing at the two with a harried expression. He was keen to get to his research – the last thing he wanted was to be lingering around in the cold.

"Your arms are bare," Brendan noted, gaze flitting between the aforementioned limbs. May's other eyebrow went up, framing her face in confusion.

"Yes," she said hesitantly, not entirely sure where his train of thought was headed. "So are my legs." As expected, his gaze landed there next. "In fact, my neck and face are too."

"Well, I can't really do much for your face and legs," he sighed, pulling at his jacket, "but I can help out with your arms and neck."

Brendan promptly shoved a bundle consisting of his scarf and jacket into May's grasp. She blinked at the unexpected gift, before pouting and sticking her arms out in Brendan's direction.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I don't need your stuff. We both know that I tolerate the cold better than you."

"Well, you know, I won't dispute that…based on your previous knowledge. However…I'll have you know I've been increasing my tolerance lately, and I'm far better, so…you know what, just take the stuff…It's not cool for a champion to let someone else freeze," he rambled.

A rueful smile asserted itself on May's face. "Increasing tolerance, huh?" she echoed. Well, if that was the case the only thing she had to go on was his word; it wasn't like she had been there at his side, laughing while simultaneously encouraging him and poking fun as the cold made his cheeks puff up in indignation…

Brendan was giving her a weird look, so she snapped to attention and nodded her head vigorously. "Alright there, Mr. Champion, I think we're going to have to compromise." She put the jacket on, surprised at the fact it was a baggy fit. She ran her thumb over the thin material making up Brendan's scarf, studying it intently. It _was _warm, rather like its owner. She smiled at him and approached, draping the scarf over his shoulders. He regarded her warily but otherwise made no efforts to remove himself from the situation. She fussed over the scarf until it was in the correct arrangement, indicating her completion with a sharp tug.

"Well…at least you took the jacket," he murmured, abruptly swivelling away from her and resuming his trek. Her smile swelled at his failed attempt to hide his blush.

"Will you two get a move on? This is important stuff! Don't flirt when you're on the job," professor Birch complained.

May's smile faltered.

After making their way through the route for a few minutes, a rustle alerted them to the presence of a creature, demanding their attention. Professor Birch's roguish grin filled up his face, and the gleam in his eyes told the two teenagers that they had reached their destination.

"You want that Pokémon, daddy? What if it's not actually the one you're looking for?"

"It had better be, because I can't contain myself for much longer," professor Birch replied, beginning to creep toward it. Brendan halted the older man with a firm grip on the arm.

"I think May should be the one creeping up to it, don't you?" Brendan stated, throwing her a look.

"Erh…Well, it's not like I couldn't, but…I've caught all of the Pokémon on this route. I…I don't have more than one of each species, so it'd be a bit…"

"C'mon now, you should aspire to be more like me." Brendan proceeded to smirk at her. "I've got multiples."

"Eh…now you're just discouraging me." May's nose wrinkled. "Does that mean if I catch more of a species I'm going to start finding hideous fashion appealing?"

Brendan scowled good-naturedly, sweeping his hand over his hat in a protective gesture. May stuck her tongue out at him.

"Go on," her dad hissed, searching her eyes imploringly. "Go and catch it before it runs off then."

"Alright daddy…I'm catching it if it's a Poochyena, right? Right." She rummaged around in her back-pack until her hand found purchase, removing a Poké Ball. Silently treading her way closer to the rustling sound, she spotted a patch of grass that was swaying erratically. Immediately, a grey coloured, hyena like creature jumped out from the patch of grass, letting loose a loud howl as it dived into yet another patch of grass.

Well, there was her energetic target.

"That was horrific," May confessed, glancing at the ball in her hand with a pout. "It's lucky I stock up whenever I go shopping." She placed it gently on the ground and rolled it towards her dad, who scooped it up and looked upon it admiringly. "My esteem has also been highly compromised as a result of this little adventure. How am I meant to take your position when it took me half an hour and twelve Poké Balls to capture a Poochyena?"

"That's quite alright dear, it is quite a hard catch to make," professor Birch consoled her, striding over to where his daughter was perched upon the log. Her brows furrowed in confusion.

"A low-levelled Poochyena is a hard catch? I mean, I know it was agitated by its poison status and that made it harder to capture, but…it still seemed more difficult than it should have been."

"That's due to its Quick Feet ability," Brendan supplied from his position next to her. May's brows furrowed even more.

"Um…its 'Quick Feet' ability? That certainly doesn't sound like Run Away."

"Here, let the little scamp out. Let yours have a stroll too, Brendan," professor Birch requested, placing the Poké Ball back in May's care. Her confusion had not abated, nor the downward incline of her eyebrows, but she complied with her dad's wishes.

Soon enough the Poochyena were studying each other, Brendan's calm and serenely positioned, while May's was dodging about shooting anxious and furtive glances. May watched the new addition to her Pokémon menagerie dash about the area, chin resting in the hands cupping her face. Her mind was working over the events that had led up to its capture.

The Poochyena – a girl, she reckoned – had been frantic, not stopping for a moment's rest. Keeping the female in her field of vision had been quite the task. After a couple of unsuccessful trials she had decided she would weaken it a bit, but then the Poochyena had tripped and crashed to the floor, whining pathetically. Frowning, May had tentatively approached and dropped down to her knees; the Poochyena had eyed her with venom in her eyes.

"…You're poisoned, aren't you, you poor thing." Brushing a gentle hand over the Poochyena's head had earned her quite the fierce growl, which had the unlikely effect of making her smile. "At least you're still coping well. I bet if you even saw the glint of a Poké Ball you'd be off, and we can't have that when you're not feeling well. Here, have some of this."

The sickly creature's nostrils had flared as she sniffed the Pecha Berry resting in May's outstretched palm, but she made no overtures towards it. Realising treatment was going nowhere with her so close, May had placed the berry on the ground and backed away, observing carefully. The Poochyena did not move immediately, her eyes fixated on May. Eventually her gaze dropped from the Pokémon trainer to the Pecha Berry, which was resting by one of her paws. With one more flare of her nostrils, the Poochyena exerted herself and scarfed down the berry in one quick motion; May had took that as her cue to begin round two.

"Both of our Poochyena have this ability," Brendan was explaining to her with excited and animated gesticulations. "What it boils down to is that when the Poochyena has a status affliction its speed increases by half. It's incredibly rare for a Poochyena to have this ability, so the time's ripe to start documenting just how many out in the wild have it, and start piecing together how they got it. A really nifty thing about the ability is that paralysis doesn't have much of an effect on the Pokémon's speed; it doesn't get lowered. Obviously Run Away is the more common ability and can certainly be handy, but I think this one is a lot cooler." May was trying to pay attention to his words, and the gist of his explanation had reached her, but it was hard not to be distracted by just how…lively he was.

Brendan tended to be quite a composed character, undoubtedly a trait that had propelled him through his many adversities. While he did not withhold smiles and grins they were more often gentle and teasing than boisterous and energetic. The smiles and grins came easily to his features when he was happy, but it was a rare feat to have him moving about so much, or so absorbed by a topic he could not really stop himself and found himself in a cycle of elaboration. She loved seeing this side of him; seeing him happy made her happy, she found, and she hardly minded the contagion.

Yet, unbidden to normal routine, a sudden thought thrust its way into her happy musings, dampening her mood and causing her stomach to squirm in an uncomfortable way.

'_He really should be the one taking father's position.'_

"It does sound like a nifty ability," May affirmed, mustering up a smile she hoped was convincing. "No wonder she was so hard to capture…her speed even kept up after the poison had withdrawn! I guess the biological mechanism behind it takes a while to die down, huh? That's pretty important to acknowledge, I think." Why was there suddenly a crack in her voice? Brendan flashed a toothy smile in her direction.

"Yeah, that's a great thing to have found out so early! I'm sure there are even more subtle things to learn about the ability, and the exciting thing is the differences in the same ability between species! For example, in Shroomish the speed gain ends as soon as the status is removed, but in something like a Teddiursa it can last for a little while after the status is gone. However, it lasted a lot longer in your Poochyena compared to Teddiursa generally, to a rate almost comparable to Jolteon, and –"

'_He really does know a lot about Pokémon and their abilities, huh?_ _I…I wasn't even aware that an ability like this existed, and yet I…and yet I…'_

"Brendan," she interjected, making him stop mid-rant with a puzzled tint to his face, "it's getting pretty late, I think. We should be heading back."

His mouth opened, as if he was about to protest, but then he shut it and instead chose to peer at her intensely. She mentally groaned, knowing he was trying to puzzle through her lack of interest.

"Well, yeah," he finally said, trying to catch her eyes while she attempted to avoid his, "it is getting pretty late. Dinner will be ready soon…erh, and I guess I've gotta go to bed pretty early…it's a shame though, I want to stay up. I'm too wound up to sleep early now."

He was looking at her expectantly, and she absently wet her lower lip, processing his words and allowing their gazes to clash.

"You need to sleep early today…? Are you having a busy day tomorrow?" she enquired, trying to keep a relatively neutral tone, despite the thrumming in her head and the pounding in her chest. He was still looking at her, defiant to her awkwardness, searching for something she didn't think she could give him right at this moment.

"I'm going away again tomorrow," he confessed, having the decency to look downwards for a second. "I'm going to be gone for a while…Steven's asked me to help him with something."

"…Oh," was all she said, a stillness in her expression. What could she even say to that? "How long will you be gone?"

"Erh…half a year," he admitted, his gaze pleading. No, no…what was he thinking? What did he want from her? How on earth did he expect her to give it to him right now? Her mind was whirling.

"That's…a while. You're…going to visit regularly, aren't you?"

He shook his head in a jerky, sharp motion.

"No…no, I can't. It's…I can't really discuss it, but…I don't think I can do that."

"…I see. That's a shame…I'll miss you." She wished her tone matched her words, wished she wasn't causing the palpable hurt blooming across his face, but how could she prevent herself sounding robotic when she had suddenly gone from feeling too much to feeling nothing? And then it came upon her, overwhelming and breaking down the numbing of her defence mechanisms, ripping through her spine down to her toes. Her entire body was fraught with tension, teeth digging into her lower lip so forcefully that the metallic tang of blood tinged her saliva

She was _furious_, and she grew even more furious because she didn't understand why.

"…May?" Brendan prompted uncertainly, voice low. An urge to fling his jacket onto the ground nudged at her, because now she was just so _hot _with rage and she would burn up if his jacket and his warmth were upon her any longer –

"I'm hungry," she said in a strangled manner. "We should get going, because I'm hungry and you must be hungry and it's quite a walk because we came far in and you need to get ready and go to sleep and –"

"May!" Brendan interrupted with urgency, grabbing at her shoulders like he had done earlier, which made her stiffen more because his hands were warm and they were on her again and –

"What? We need to go, it's getting late. I'll get my father." She shrugged his hands off much like his concern and turned on her heel, set on finding her father and ending this horrible surge of feelings broiling within her, but Brendan was nothing if not insistent, and this time he had lurched forward and clasped her hand. This movement gave her pause, and in that one instance of weakness her electric, rousing feelings voided her and a crushing despair pressed down on her. She recalled all of the times Brendan had done this during their friendship, his warm, tanned hand always finding hers so easily and naturally, the smile that would quirk his lips, the affection in his eyes she tried not to ponder over too much or too long lest her heartbeat quicken and conflicting, foreign feelings light her cheeks –

But she felt so cold that even the warmth from his hand couldn't penetrate her, and she knew if she chanced a glance at him there would be no quirk of his lips, no sparkle in his gaze.

"May, I-"

"Please, Brendan," she whispered in such a desolate way that the grip on her hand weakened; he was obviously taken aback. "Let me go. I just…I just want to go home."

'_I don't know what I want.'_

They stood there in a thick silence for a few moments, tears beginning to sting May's eyes as she assumed she would have to keep going and going, but how could she be going anywhere when her energy was gone? Why did Brendan have to keep pushing her? Couldn't he see through her? Surely even if she didn't understand what she was feeling Brendan did, because Brendan was Brendan and he _always _knew what was on her mind –

She was almost shocked when her hand fell limp at her side, so locked in her own war of emotions she had nearly not noticed.

"I'll get the professor, then," Brendan remarked, and she couldn't ascertain anything from his voice. Nothing. He was monotone, apathetic, occluded and she was cold, cold, _cold._

She heard the soft tread of his footfalls fade away as he sought out the professor, and she did not move from her position, staring at the floor and wishing it would swallow her where she stood. She crossed her arms and tucked her chin in, eyes still watering, fingers clutching at the fabric of Brendan's jacket. It was warm.

'_I wish I was wearing his scarf too.'_


	3. Chapter 3

**Champion's Allure**

"…Are you _sure _you don't want to talk about it?"

"No daddy, I'm fine, really."

"I'm not convinced."

'_I'm the one who needs to be convinced,' _May thought, her gaze glued to the table where her fingers were drumming. Professor Birch padded back across the tiles to her and slid a steaming mug into her narrowed field of vision. She acknowledged it with a jerk of her head and a stiff, mirthless smile before returning her attention to her fingers.

Had Brendan already left? It wouldn't be surprising if he had gone without coming to see her after the previous night's debacle, and she couldn't bring herself to ask or check if he had already gone. She was already at her wit's end deciding whether she was glad or mad he had perhaps made a run for it without coming to see her.

"Daddy…what are you planning to do today?" she asked out of the blue, prompting a confused blink from her dad.

"Uh…I was going to be in the lab for most of the day. I admit there's correspondence I have to sort out…that I tend to forget about when field research is in view, so I imagine a good deal of my day will go to that."

May was now partially sprawled over the table, face resting against the ceramic surface, hands splayed out in front of her, warranting even more concern from professor Birch. "Honey…? Are you…OK?"

"There's nothing I can help you with, you mean," May's muffled response came. Professor Birch hovered behind her uncertainly, before deciding to poke her harshly in the shoulder blade. This caused her to jerk upward, nearly tipping her mug of tea over. Her efforts were acknowledged as a few spatters of tea decorated the table. "What was that for?" she cried, craning her neck around to face him.

Her dad's face was now adorned by his 'serious professor face', which caused her indignation to reduce to a simmer and for her to sink into her chair. She was about to get her daily lecture…

"Look, how is getting depressed and taking it out on others going to help? So you blew it with Brendan yesterday, and now you have to wait six months to fix it." May flinched, drawing her chin inwards; why did her dad even know this? "You're just going to have to suck it up and get on with things, I'm afraid…or, you know, just call him or email him or something. Either way…" He swept his large hands over May's shoulders. "You've got to make a choice now; whatever you decide to do, whether it involves Brendan or not, you can't just mope and rage for six months."

"I wasn't going to mope and rage for six months," she rebuffed quietly, causing professor Birch to roll his eyes. She knew her dad was right, of course, but it wasn't like she didn't know that. It wasn't as if she intended to sulk through the next six months – goodness, she'd get over it before Brendan got back…and then would probably feel awkward again, but…six months was a long time…

"Listen, I've actually got something for you to do if you want…why not take a little trip to Slateport? I actually need to give Stern something, but I don't really have time…it is relatively important, though, so could you please do it for me? Aaaaaand no flying, OK? I want you to take your time. You don't need to rush back, it's fine." He released his daughter's shoulders and did an about face, heading towards the front door. "I'll be in my lab if you need me – try and decide by tomorrow, OK?"

After he had departed, May made no movements, staring after him with a contemplative look settled upon her features. It had been quite a while since she'd gone on an adventure…while Brendan was off having a dandy old time on many adventures. Yet here she was, waiting and waiting back at home…and for what? Waiting for Brendan to come back, like some dutiful wife? Heat was blazing in her chest again, and it made her spring to her feet, the force shoving her chair quite far back. Why shouldn't she go? It would be good to leave Littleroot and all of its associations for a while; it would keep her mind occupied.

"Daddy, wait! Wait a second!" she called, running after professor Birch.

* * *

><p>"You're an idiot. What can I say besides that? You're a moron. Yes, yes, I suppose I can elaborate on this. You're a fool, a –"<p>

"Alright already, I understand," Brendan cut in sharply, issuing an exasperated sigh. Professor Birch fell silent on the other end briefly, and Brendan wondered what the man would say next, whether the topic would change into something more substantial or whether he would continue to get berated.

"Are you sure? I have a feeling I'm going to have to keep going on and on at you until it's imprinted into your thick skull. A FOOL. You. Are. A. FOOL."

"I know, I know! But what is saying that over and over going to achieve? It's not going to help May and I make up," he interjected again, gritting his teeth. He hated talking about this; every time he admitted he and May had fought his stomach twisted in anxiety. How on earth had that happened? How had he managed to mess up what was meant to be a straight forward love confession, with someone as laidback and docile as May, and tangle it into…into…

"Listen," professor Birch said exasperatedly, and at the change of tone Brendan automatically pressed his PokéNav Plus closer, "you both have to work through these issues, but you're going to have to instigate the repair, given that a lot of this is your fault. I can try to force you or May all I like, but the fact of the matter is this is up to you two; after all, you're growing up! I can't expect you two to be obedient children all the time anymore, and you've got to learn to resolve your own issues. The adults can't always intervene! Anyway, the idea of Norman getting involved in all of this is…laughable, really. Well, I mean, not to insult him or anything, but…he's hardly the most romantic guy. He's more of a lucky guy to have someone like your mother, actually."

"Like I'd ask my father for love advice," Brendan complained, frowning. "As weird as it sounds, going to you seemed like the better idea. Your wife doesn't complain about you being a work-a-holic, at least."

"Not at all," professor Birch confirmed smugly. "I can try and give you advice on these love matters, Brendan, and I will endeavour to, but you need to get your act together, OK? Anywho, I've got a lot to do today, as I'm sure you do, so…devise your best strategy, and mend my poor girl's heart! Just so we're clear on something, future son-in-law…if you keep breaking my poor daughter's heart, there will be severe repercussions. I just wanted to let you know now, just so a 'lack of warning' wouldn't be held against me in the future."

"I don't know whether to be offended or complimented by your optimism in relation to me becoming your son-in-law and yet breaking your daughter's heart," Brendan remarked dryly, though professor Birch had not hidden the smile in his voice.

"Well, I have a bad feeling you're going to hurt her again as you try to repair things, so…just trying to push you from that path. Alright, then! Goodbye!" With those curt words, the conversation was over.

Brendan glowered at his PokéNav Plus, feeling frustrated.

"What kind of feeling is that? Why would you say that with a laugh in your voice? Aaaaaah, I don't want a father-in-law who mocks me all the time~~~"

He figured he would have to get used to it now, though, seeing as if he had his way professor Birch would be the only father-in-law available to him.

He couldn't help but agree with the professor's words, though, each a constant stinging reminder.

Idiot, moron, fool, fool, _fool._

Brendan smacked his palm to his forehead, going over the dreadful events of last night yet again. They'd already compromised much of his mind capacity and sleeping hours, and he had learnt trying to suppress the thoughts only made them surge back more strongly in response, intent on devouring his every waking moment.

He'd drawn up the plan with professor Birch before he'd left for the two or so months; he had intended to confess his feelings to May, which had received a jubilant and positive response from her father.

"Finally," he had said, clasping Brendan's shoulders and looking him in the eyes, a twinkle in his gaze. "I was worried I'd start showing grey hairs like Norman before someone made a move. Let me help you with this, dear future son-in-law."

As soon as Brendan got back professor Birch would get the two teenagers alone, preferably away from the prying eyes of the small and impatient Littleroot. It wasn't like he'd find it challenging to drag his daughter somewhere, nor was it likely May would decline any invitations. The only stipulation was that Brendan would confess on his own; professor Birch firmly outlawed any further involvement from his person, indicating it was far too embarrassing and that he was getting too old for such shenanigans.

True to his word, professor Birch had left the two together, secluded and tucked into the depths of route 101, masking his own impatience and tension with a lot of exuberance for his work. Brendan had already made some romantic moves, like offering his clothing because it was cold, and the atmosphere itself was lovely; they were within the bowels of nature, the night sky jet-black and speckled with small, sparkling sights.

Or, at least, everything in the atmosphere was lovely, except for the downcast look in May's eyes and her solemnity. She'd refused to look him in the face, and her lively demeanour had crumpled under a weight of sadness that he didn't understand, but thought he should try his best to remove.

However, romantic aspirations flowed much more easily in the mind than in practice, and Brendan was not sure how to translate his thoughts and feelings into words. Honestly, being romantic wasn't exactly in his DNA; the whole subject made him uncomfortable and awkward, even though he was sure of what he wanted. He knew he wanted to tell May his feelings and be with her in a way that was different from before, and he knew he did not want to be like his father in whatever this different relation was.

But he hadn't been getting any appropriate reactions out of her at all, and that had caused him to make the greatest fumble; he'd dropped the wrong bombshell on her.

He had been grappling with that, too; how on earth was he going to tell her that he was zipping off again for six months? He couldn't delay it, but it wasn't like he could keep delaying his feelings. He knew she'd be hurt, but he had to tell her both things. Would she be assuaged if he revealed his love beforehand, or angered because she felt like he was playing with her feelings? Any plans he had conceived – generally tending to confessing first – were tossed in the trash heap as soon as he lost grip on his composure and his conflicted emotions tumbled out.

He knew he'd get a reaction out of her if he told her he was going for six months; he knew it would be bad, and he knew he was, as professor Birch had hammered home, a complete fool; confessing his love would have probably gotten a reaction out of her too, and yet he imagined it would have been a more positive reaction than what actually transpired. As much as he hated the truth of the matter, he had defaulted to the confession that would hurt her because he was hurt by her reclusive behaviour, and wanted her to feel hurt in exchange. He felt ashamed whenever he acknowledged that fact, particularly because he had since realised May's behaviour wasn't to hurt him, but due to some internal conflicts he was not privy to, and he'd gone and made her existing mood worse.

She'd gotten angry, and that made the situation worse; how on earth could he deal with an angry May? May had never gotten angry at him and it unnerved him, because of course when May did get angry, it wasn't in a typical manner. She hadn't exploded in his face and started arguing with him; she had withdrawn further into the shell she had created and tried to avoid the situation. He found May's version of anger harder to deal with, because at least he could try and steady her, reason with her, if she was shouting in his face, but with her path of anger she was leaving him nothing, and thus he had nothing to steady or calm her with.

And then he'd somehow made the situation worse. Despite all the things he could have done or said, he put his foot in his mouth at every opportunity and then she was _crying _and pleading with him to 'let me go'. His mind scrutinised that statement deeply, even now; had that just been a transient plea for him to physically release her or had she hinted at something more? He couldn't bear to imagine what that 'something more' might be.

"I'm an idiot," he stated, pulling his cap down roughly so it shielded the turbulent emotions in his eyes. "I'm an idiot, and I don't know what to do."


End file.
